by Bob Mayer
“How will you find this place if no one knows where it is?” Cordon asked quietly.
“I’ll find it,” Conner answered firmly.
“But how?” Legere dug in. “We can’t send you off on some wild goose chase.”
Parker smiled fully then. “Who said it would be you, if we sent anyone, Ms. Young?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “All right. I think the cover-up on the loss of that aircraft is significant enough to make it worth our looking into. People haven’t totally forgotten the MIA issue, and that could be a good lead-in. Even if you don’t find the base, the story on the plane might be worthwhile if you can find out something more.”
The CEO turned to Legere. “Do it. One standard overseas team.” He looked into Conner’s eyes. “You can have ten days from departure to return. Get me something.” With that he stood and left the room, followed by Cordon.
Legere paused in the doorway. There was no smile on her face. “I’ll contact you first thing in the morning about your team.” Her voice dropped the temperature in the room a few degrees.
Stu was left sitting there with his newest reporter, not having said a word the entire time. Now he looked at her and shook his head. “Jesus Christ, Conner. Do you know what you just did? I mean, even if you find the damn place, who’s to say there’s anything important there now? It could be a garbage dump for all we know.”
Conner knew she’d put her entire career on the line. “You’re the one who said this was an up or out business, Stu. You can go up only if you take chances.” She gathered her files and left the conference room.
As she walked back to her cubicle she thought about what had just happened. If she didn’t find Eternity Base she’d be lucky to find a job reading the local news on a small-town cable channel. Conner shook her head. Now was the time to think positively. If—no, not if—but when—she found Eternity Base, she was determined that she would have a story, whatever it might be.
*****
Conner was at the end of her rope. The phone had turned into an enemy for the past hour, eliciting no useful information. She picked it up one more time and dialed.
“Records Center. Samantha Pintella,” a voice drawled on the other end.
“Sammy, I need your help.”
“What’s up now?”
“I received permission to lead a news team to Antarctica to do a story on Eternity Base. The only problem is that I still don’t have any idea where it is.”
“You’re going down there? That was quick work. What do you need from me?”
Conner spun her chair away from the computer screen. “I’ve got to find Eternity Base and I’m having no luck. I’ve called all four people on that list you gave me and they won’t say a thing. Freely won’t even come to the phone to talk to me. He threatened to contact the FBI if I called again. Is there anything, anything at all you can think of that might help?”
“To be honest, no. There’s no other record of Eternity Base here that I could find. The 67th Engineer’s unit history had just those photos in it, no paperwork that might have had a location listed on it. You could try the enlisted personnel in the company, but from what Freely said, nobody in the unit really knew where they were or why they were building what they were building.
“Besides, I’ve got to put that file back in the box first thing tomorrow morning. The load’s getting picked up and taken to Washington.”
Conner sighed. “Can you think of anything I can do?”
“The only thing I haven’t done yet is access the restricted database and the vault. That’s the classified area of the Records Center. But if I do that and you break the story, people are going to know right away that I was in on it. Plus, accessing the computer may alert someone that we’re onto the base—I’m sure that d-base is monitored.”
“I really need your help,” Conner pleaded.
Sammy’s voice was cautious. ‘Tell you what I’ll do. I’ll do some runs on the computer. See how it goes.”
“All right. Thanks for the help.”
“Sure.”
“Right, bye.” Conner hung up. She rummaged through the piles of paper on her desk until she found the stick-em note with the phone number of the Our Earth office in Australia. She dialed the international code and then the number. Devlin made it to the phone more quickly this time.
“Devlin, it’s Conner.”
“What’s up?”
“I’m coming to Antarctica with a team.”
His reaction was more positive than her sister’s. “Great!”
Conner gave a quick synopsis of her meeting with Parker.
Devlin immediately got to the heart of the matter. “So you need help finding this place, right?”
“Right.”
“Well, there’s not much I can do for you right now. You really have nothing except that it’s a little less than two hours out from McMurdo by C-130. I mean, we don’t even know if it’s south, east, or west. Most likely south or east, though.”
Conner typed that into her computer. “Why do you say that?”
“If the U.S. Army built this thing and wanted to keep it a secret, as you’ve said, then they’d probably want it to be far away from any other countries’ stations. The Russians had a base in 1971, Leningradskaya, about five hundred miles to the west of McMurdo, and the French had one farther along the coast in that direction.
“South from McMurdo there’s nothing until you hit the South Pole itself. So that would seem like a good place to hide a base. Maybe in the Transantarctic Mountains.
“East from McMurdo is Marie Byrd Land, and there was nothing permanent out there for almost two thousand miles in ‘71, although in ‘73 the Russians put in a base, called Russkaya, right on the coast to the east. But if it was 1971 and I was going to build some sort of secret base, that might be a direction I’d go.”
Conner made notes of all that. “Anything else you can think of that might help?”
“When are you arriving in New Zealand?”
“I don’t know yet. I should get my itinerary tomorrow. Probably this weekend sometime.”
“Give me a call and let me know when you’ll be landing. I’ll meet you there and have things ready to go.”
Conner decided to test the waters a little. “It’ll be good to see you.”
Devlin laughed. “I haven’t heard from you in over a year, but, yes, I’ll be glad to see you, too. I enjoyed our night together. I’ve thought of it a lot. It’s not often I meet someone I can talk to so openly. I won’t ask why you never tried to get in touch with me again.”
Devlin’s voice shifted gears. “Anyway, that’s the past. I’m interested in this story of yours. It has the potential to make people think about Antarctica, and we certainly need that. A large part of our environmental legacy as a race may depend on how we deal with the last untouched frontier on the seventh continent.”
Conner wasn’t sure herself why she’d never gotten back in contact with Devlin, but the reverse was also true, and he was offering no explanations. “All right, but remember I have to be objective.”
“I know. Listen, I’ve got to get back to work. Call with your flight info. If I’m not here, leave a message and I’ll be there to meet you. All right?”
“All right.”
“Great. Bye.”
“Bye.” Conner slowly put down the phone. She realized there was one more important thing she needed.
COLORADO SPRINGS, COLORADO
The flashing light on the secure phone drew the old man’s attention from the picture postcard view of the Rocky Mountains outside his window. Despite his years there was still a bounce to his step as he walked over to his desk. He was tall with a stomach flat as a board. His silver hair framed a distinguished face that attracted women a third his age and made the men around him choose their words with care. A long finger reached out and hit the speaker button. A brief whine and a green light on the phone indicated the line was secure from eavesdroppers.
“Peter he
re.”
“This is Andrew. I am calling you as per instructions, sir.”
Peter looked down at the caller ID—it was scrambled. He recognized the code name though; it belonged to one of many people in the government and other organizations whom he kept on his payroll to funnel information to him. Peter had long ago learned that information was much more valuable than money, and it was getting more valuable as the electronic net encompassing the people of the world grew. “Go ahead.”
“My people have detected an inquiry into the secure database that you have coded for alert.”
Peter’s slate gray eyes focused on the phone as he bent forward slightly, the muscles in his forearms rippling as he leaned on his desk. “Subject?”
“Eternity Base.”
The old man’s eyes closed briefly and then opened. “Source?”
“National Personnel Records Center in St. Louis.”
“Who is inquiring?”
“A Samantha Pintella,” Andrew replied. “My records indicate she’s a section chief there with a Q clearance.”
“A sanctioned search?”
“No, sir. It looks more like she’s just fishing on her own.”
“Anything more?”
“Negative.”
“Thank you.”
“Do I need to be concerned?” Andrew asked.
“I will take care of it.” Peter hit the off button and flicked a switch on the desktop before walking over to one of several exercise machines set up near the windows. As he sat down and began a set of arm pullovers, the door on the far side of the room opened. A stocky man with an expressionless face distinguished only by bright blue eyes walked up to Peter, halting a respectful five feet away, silently awaiting his instructions.
After the tenth repetition, Peter smoothly let the weight slide to a resting position and looked up. “My dear friend Lazarus. How are you today?” “Fine, sir.”
“Good. I need you to make a trip to clear up some old business.”
Chapter 5
SNN HEADQUARTERS
ATLANTA, GEORGIA
25 NOVEMBER 1996
Louise Legere looked up briefly from the computer printout. “You’re going to rack up quite a few frequent flyer miles on this trip.” The special features editor read the grueling itinerary with relish. “Depart Atlanta this evening at six, straight through to San Francisco. Depart San Francisco for Honolulu. Depart there for New Zealand. Hmm, you cross the international date line en route, so there goes one of your ten days. Arrive in Auckland, New Zealand, on Saturday evening at seven.” She slid the paper across the desk. “That’s the end of the commercial flights and my involvement. Your friends from Our Earth have to take care of you from there on out.”
“How much time in the air is that?” Conner asked.
Legere’s fingers flew over the numeric keypad on her computer. “Let’s see. Rounding everything off, you have five hours from here to San Fran. Another five to Hawaii. That’s ten. Ten from Hawaii to New Zealand. That’s twenty.”
Conner shook her head. “How about a longer layover in Hawaii? At least to let everyone get a night’s sleep.”
Legere didn’t even consider it. “My dear girl, you can sleep on the plane. Time is money, and your little trip is already burning more than it’s worth.”
Conner knew she shouldn’t have bothered asking. “When do I meet my crew?”
“This afternoon at one in conference room three,” she said coldly.
Conner wanted to get this meeting over with as quickly as possible. “When is the return flight?”
“You head for home on the fourth from New Zealand.”
“But if you add in the two days to go to Antarctica and back up to New Zealand, that only leaves me with four days to search for Eternity Base,” Conner protested.
“Mister Parker gave you ten days. I’ve given you ten days from leaving Atlanta until returning.”
Conner felt a small knot of panic form in her stomach. “I need more than four days.”
Legere wouldn’t negotiate. “No. Those crew members will be on special duty pay. Do you know how much that is per day? The commercial plane reservations are already made.
“Now, also, don’t forget your communication requirements. Your commo man knows about it, and he’ll have the frequencies and satellite information, but it’s your responsibility to make contact with us here on schedule. Everything on this trip is your responsibility. Do you understand?”
Conner looked into the face of the older woman, noting the lines around her eyes and the sharp red gash her lips made in the pinched face. “I understand.”
Legere slid a folder across the desk. “Here’s your authorization and tickets. Stop by Miss Suwon’s desk down in records for your background packet and personnel roster. I’ll see you when you get back.”
Conner picked up the folder and left the office. She took the elevator down to the basement where the large mainframe computer for SNN was housed along with its human servants. She found Miss Suwon seated in a large office that made Conner’s cubicle look tiny. A massive desk with four separate computer terminals on top dominated the room. A sophisticated laser printer in the corner of the room was spewing out a piece of paper every few seconds.
Miss Suwon was a young Asian woman with the petite figure that women from that part of the world seem to have stamped in their genes. She was dwarfed by all the electronics. Her hair was straight and long; cascading to her waist in a graceful line that even Conner had to envy. Suwon was dressed very well for someone in a basement office, and Conner wondered if maybe she had chosen the wrong job in this organization.
Suwon smiled as Conner came in the door. “Miss Young. I am glad to finally meet you.” She swiveled in her chair and frowned at the computer screen. “I do not yet have your roster—there have been two other crews requested this morning, and personnel is still trying to rework their schedule. I assure you that you will have a good crew and they will be at your meeting this afternoon.”
Miss Suwon passed over a bulging binder. “This was the best I could do on such short notice. I hope it will be helpful.”
Conner looked at the label on the cover: SNN/CONNER YOUNG/ ANTARCTICA/BACKGROUND DATA/25 NOVEMBER 1996. She flipped through, amazed at the amount of information it contained and how well organized it was. There were sections on the history of Antarctica, the weather, environment, exploration, political status—everything Conner could possibly need as background for a story.
“Thank you very much. I’ve heard so many good things about what you do here, but this is truly amazing.”
Miss Suwon smiled demurely. “I am glad to be of help. If you need anything else, please feel free to stop by.” She held out a 3.5-inch diskette. “This is all the information in the binder on disk so you can cut and paste on your laptop if you need to.” She then slid across several large brown envelopes. “These are maps of various scales of Antarctica, which might prove useful.”
With a final thanks, Conner made her way back to the news section.
NATIONAL PERSONNEL RECORDS CENTER
ST. LOUIS, MISSOURI
The phone was ringing as Sammy approached her desk, still shivering from the motorcycle ride to work. “Records Center. Samantha Pintella.”
“It’s Conner. What’d you get?”
“Well, good morning to you too. I got nothing, to put it bluntly. I did a search using all the information you’d uncovered. As far as the classified d-base is concerned, Eternity Base never existed.
“What I did find backed up the cover stories for both B Company, 67th Engineers, and the aircrew. Both are listed as being in Vietnam working for MACV-SOG.”
“Shit,” Conner muttered. She wasted no time getting to the next angle of attack. “Sammy, I need those photos.”
“Why?” Sammy asked.
“Because if any of them have something in the background, especially a significant terrain feature, we might be able to triangulate the location from known f
eatures.” Conner was obviously looking at a map—Sammy could hear paper rustling in the background. “There’re a lot of mountains and glaciers down there. We might be able to recognize something in the photos.”
Sammy remembered the three peaks she’d noticed in the background of the group picture. “I put the folder back in the box and it’s on the loading dock. It might even be on the trailer and on the way to the Archives in Washington.”
“Could you check to see if it’s there at least? Sam, my job rides on this story. Please.”
Sammy sighed. “All right, all right. I’ll check. Hold on.”
Sammy put the down phone and headed for the back of the basement. She went up a ramp to the inside loading dock. There were twelve pallets of records sitting there. Sammy immediately saw that the one holding the 67th’s unit history was still in the same place. She retrieved the record and took it back to her desk.
“I’ve got it, but I can’t take the pictures, Conner. They’d hang me. Digging around in the computer is one thing. But taking documents from the Center is a direct violation of the rules.”
“I won’t use them on the air, Sammy. I promise.”
“No.” Her sister was making good money at SNN, but Sammy needed two more years of government service to get her minimum retirement pay. “There’s no way I’m removing these from the file.”
“How about a photocopy then?”
Sammy frowned. “Photocopy?”
“I’ll take anything I can get, Sam. Can you copy them and fax them to me right away?”
Sammy thought about it. There was a copying machine right near her desk. She could easily hide the copies under her shirt and go to a nearby store and fax them. With the originals still in the file, it wouldn’t be a direct violation of the rules. “The quality will be pretty crummy, you know. You promise not to use them on the air or even refer to them in a story?”
“I promise.”
“Give me your fax number.”
Sammy copied the number.
“I really appreciate this, Sam. I’ll talk to you when I get back, OK?”